


Dance of the Tortured

by Setter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-29 01:53:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10844061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Setter/pseuds/Setter
Summary: 'Emotions are for the weak. Friends are for the weak. Love is for the weak'. "CRUCIO!"Barty's first time torturing someone.





	Dance of the Tortured

**Author's Note:**

> Written for The Most in a Month Competition.  
> Written for the Colors of the Rainbow Competition: Red: Prompt #2 - Write about a character killing/torturing another character.  
> Written for The Choose Your Wand Challenge: Ebony - Write about a Death Eater.

“CRUCIO!” Insane laughter mixed with screams of agony. Sweat mixed with tears.   
Mister Baker hung weak in his armchair. Only held up by thick ropes. The same ropes that kept his wife from reaching him. Her cheeks wet and makeup all over her face. She was sobbing quietly. Not able to talk or beg, like she had been for the past hour.   
  
Intimidated by the cries of the couple, Barty had retreated until he found himself with his back against the wall. The pain on their faces. Their love for each other. The Death Eater knew the horror was written clearly on his face, but he couldn’t erase the expression, no matter how much he wanted it to be unseen.   
  
The woman’s broken look made him want to cry. Made him want to turn around and never come back, just like Regulus almost a month ago. But Barty couldn't follow in his - most likely death - friend’s footsteps. For everything he was, Barty wasn’t a quitter. He’d made up his mind, and would live by his decision.   
  
He’d joined Voldemort, he believed in their shared cause - only his stupid heart wouldn’t listen to his brain - he’d made his choice long ago! Than why did he feel so bad now he finally got what he wanted: to serve Voldemort and abandon the man that had abandoned him so long ago.   
  
“Your turn Crouch,” Bellatrix Lestrange placed her wide eyes on him. Barty shrunk further into his corner. Wishing he could disappear.  _ ‘Be strong!’ _ This was what he wanted. So he straightened up and took a step forward. Bellatrix gaze burning in his back. If he didn’t do this, she would kill him. He was sure of it. She’d never liked the young Crouch and Barty didn’t doubt her capability to murder him and get away with it.   
  
Slowly he raised his wand. “Do it!” The Death Eater’s cackling laugh filled his ears. Salty tears formed in Barty’s eyes, but he refused to shed them. Everyone had always seen him as weak, but now he would show them his strength.  _ Emotions are for the weak. Friends are for the weak. Love is for the weak.  _ The words mixed with the crazy laughter and echoed through his head.   
  
The captured woman looked up, making eye contact. PLeading Barty to let her go, to show her mercy. “I’m sorry,” he mouthed, before he aimed his wand. A steadying breath left his lips, stopping the trembling of his body for a second. “CRUCIO!”   
  
Red light raced towards the woman. Her back arched and for a second, she looked frozen in time. The pain kicked in and her arm twitched. Then her right leg shot out. It didn’t take long for her whole body to join into the pain filled dance of the tortured. Her screams deafened the Death Eaters. Her eyes were wide, glazed by the excruciating agony. Her limbs moved in impossible angles. Her husband regained his consciousness and screamed for his wife. Begged their captors for mercy.   
  
Barty’s heart raced, and even the screams sounded dull in his ears. His expression twisted from pity to hatred, to rage. Before him, he pictured his father. Bound to a chair, with no way of escape. Every so hated memory he’d banned to the back of his mind came to the front and fueled his fury. His scream joined the others. The room exploding of sound.   
  
A loud clattering sounded when his wand fell and the spell broke. The room finally silent. Barty still wide-eyed and struggling to breath properly. Adrenaline pumping through his veins. His mind thinking:  _ ‘This feels good!’ _ His heart whispering:  _ ‘What did you do?’ _ __   
“Not bad,” Bellatrix praised reluctant, raising her own wand and starting the screaming match again.   
  
Exactly a year later, their Lord had fallen. Four Death Eaters, consumed with rage and madness, entered the house of two aurors. And just like with the Bakers, no mercy was given.   
The Longbottoms were barely alive when the four were done with them and Bellatrix turned to their baby son. The Death Eaters’ lungs and ears hurt from the screams. Those cries had leaked through the silencing charms the Death Eaters had cast and the protection charms already placed on the house. Alarmed neighbours had warned the ministry. Trapped by the aurors the four fought for their life. The youngest fired spells like he was giving away candy. Red and green lights flying around, hitting everyone on their path. He fought his way out. The cold air hitting him in the face. He laughed and pointed his wand in the air: “MORSMORDRE!” Everyone should fear, because they knew like he knew: one day his Lord - everyone’s Lord - would be back.   
  
The aurors captured the four, but that night more were lost than defeated. All captives were brought to Azkaban, where they would spend the rest of their lives as tortured souls. Never able to pass on to the world they send so many people to. The insanity of their living victims infecting their own souls.


End file.
